Adèlie
by Eclectic Butterfly
Summary: A what if scenario
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: While I know I have two other Three Musketeers fics (over in the Alexandre Dumas section) that I really should be working on, I decided I would post this. I wrote it months ago and at some point had it betaed by the lovely LadyWallace. If you love The Three Musketeers, you'll love her work. Check it out!**_

_**Anyway, this monster one shot I wrote in a week because the plot and scenario would not leave me alone. I have divided it into shorter chapters for easier reading. **_

_**Warning: It does contain language that some find offensive. I do not use these words myself.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Three Musketeers. I just play with the characters every now and then.**_

* * *

_**Winter, 1621**_

_** "**_You're going back to Paris without me?"

Tying her cloak on, Milady de Winter glanced over her shoulder impatiently. "I have been gone far too long," she said. "It's been over six months now. Any longer and Athos will question my absence. As it is, I will have to blame the winter snows for my delay."

"But…but the child! You're leaving me alone with her?"

"I trust you to do see to her care, Kitty," Milady said firmly. She pulled the hood up over her head. "You didn't think I would remain here in this quaint and boring village, did you? I have clients to see and a smitten musketeer in Paris to return to."

Hovering in the doorway, Kitty Villeux shushed the whimpering baby she held in her arms. "I thought you loved Monsieur Athos," she said.

Milady paused to consider this, and then laughed softly. "I do, I suppose," she said. "But one day, I know we are going to be on different sides because someone makes me a better offer. When that day comes, he will hate me and that will be the end of the relationship."

Shaking her head, Kitty frowned. "Milady, surely the child could have a better home than this," she said. "I know nothing about raising children!"

"Neither do I, but I'm sure you will manage," Milady answered, turning around. She walked to the doorway and took the swaddled babe into her arms. "If it was known that I, Milady, had a child, anyone I've ever dealt with will want to use her as revenge."

She kissed the baby's forehead. "I will send you the necessary funds," she said, looking up at her maid. "Keep me apprised of her well being."

"If you didn't want her, why did you have her?" Kitty burst out. "There are ways to not have a child! And, there are families who would adore a beautiful child such as this. And you want me to remain here, where we are sure to be outcasts, and raise the child alone?"

Milady's eyes narrowed. "Hold your tongue, Kitty!" she said. "I do not have to explain my self to you!"

Still, under the accusing glare of the maid, Milady felt the tiniest bit of regret. She dared not tell Athos of the child. He would leave his current course and expect her to leave her career as well. As she looked at the child she held, Milady shook her head. That wasn't the life for her, no matter how much she did love her little Adélie.

"It will be better for Adélie, this way," Milady said softly.

"Why can you not give her to the father?" Kitty begged. "I have never been so far from Paris."

Complaining was not something Milady would stand for. "You will survive," she said, handing the child over.

Looking woebegone, Kitty followed Milady to the door. When Milady looked back, far down the road, she saw the maid still in the doorway, holding the child. Taking a deep breath, Milady faced the front. It was for the best; for child, and definitely best for her. She was certain of it.

* * *

A/N: Hopefullly, I will post a chapter a week. Hope you have enjoyed so far, even if it is a horribly short chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Warning, this chapter does contain words that may be offensive to some. Please note that in real life, I personally do not use such words.**_

* * *

_**Spring 1626**_

Limping slightly, D'Atagnan led his horse into the small village. "There better be a blacksmith here," he said, glancing over at his companion. "Or you're going to owe me a new pair of shoes."

Laughing, Aramis dismounted to walk next to the younger man. "I know for certain there is one here," he said.

"Yeah, you said that at the last village," D'Artagnan complained. One of his first missions as a full fledged musketeer, and Buttercup throws a shoe. He shook his head. "I've been walking for miles as it is."

"There," Aramis pointed to a building. "You can get your Buttercup re-shod there."

Grumbling, D'Artagnan pulled his horse towards the blacksmith's forge. The man told him it would take a few hours as he had a lot of work. There was nothing he could do about it, so D'Artagnan joined Aramis outside and told him they had to wait. "What are we going to do now?" the young man asked.

"It's not like we're in a hurry," Aramis said calmly. "Let's go over to the tavern for a drink."

"All right, but you're buying," D'Artagnan warned.

Aramis chuckled and nodded. They hadn't gone many steps when a strange sight met their eyes. A little girl, no more than five years old, came running out from beside the tavern. She was looking over her shoulder, so when her foot caught on something, she fell right into one of the many mud puddles that were in the street.

As D'Artagnan and Aramis chuckled at the sight, a group of boys, mostly twelve or so years old, came racing into view. The largest of them immediately pounced on the little girl, pinning her down in the mud. "Eat it, you little bastard," he said, smearing the mud in her face.

The two musketeers stopped smiling. "Leave her alone," D'Artagnan exclaimed, stepping into the street.

Looking up, the boy just smirked and got to his feet. "This is none of your affair, Monsieur," he said politely. He pushed the girl's head into the murky water with his foot and held her there as the child thrashed frantically. "We're just teaching this creature a less-."

He trailed off as he saw two rapiers being drawn. "Run!" one of the other boys yelped, backtracking swiftly. "They're musketeers!"

While having no real intention of harming the boys, D'Artagnan and Aramis still advanced threateningly. The leader of the group took his foot of the girl and scrambled back. Coughing and gasping for air, the girl rolled onto her back. D'Artagnan chased the boys a few yards before sheathing his sword and returning.

Kneeling in the mud, Aramis set the child on her feet. "Are you all right, mademoiselle?" Aramis asked, in concern.

"Merci, Monsieur," the girl said, her voice trembling. She wiped at the mud on her face. "Are they gone?"

"My friend D'Artagnan has chased them off, and I'm sure they won't be back any time soon," Aramis informed her. He drew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her face, though it did little good. "My name is Aramis. What's yours?"

For a moment, the girl stared at him, her blue eyes wide. "Adélie," the girl answered, her tone hesitant. She pulled at her soaked, muddy dress, trying to get it to stop sticking to her small frame.

Glancing around, D'Artagnan spotted several villagers returning to work. His temper flared and his eyes narrowed. "Why did no one else try to stop this?" he demanded, striding towards a small group of men who still watched. "They could have killed her!"

"It might have been a blessing for her," one commented, his tone caustic. "We don't need her type here."

"Her type?" D'Artagnan repeated in furious astonishment. "She is just a child! She couldn't possibly have done anything that wrong. You would just stand by while bullies nearly drown her?"

"D'Artagnan, leave it," Aramis called over seriously. The former priest straightened up and held his hand out to Adélie. "We shall take you home, Mademoiselle Adélie, and make sure no one comes to torment you again."

Again, Adélie stared at him. Slowly, the child's eyes brightened as she seemed to realize he was serious and she put her muddy hand in Aramis'. "This way, Monsieu_r,_" she said, pulling him forward. "I will show you the way."

Giving the unashamed villagers one last glare, D'Artagnan trailed after his friend and the little girl. She led them out of the village, making straight for a small cottage that stood some not too far away. There was only the slightest of paths that the child followed.

"Adélie, do the other children often torment you like that?" Aramis asked gently.

"Yes," Adélie answered, very quietly. She bit her lip and then burst out, "I know I'm not supposed to go to the village alone, but there's no one to play with and...and I thought maybe this time they wouldn't be mean to me or call me names."

Aramis nodded, looking grave. D'Artagnan frowned, trying to figure out his friend was trying to learn from the girl. "Do you live with your parents here?" Aramis next asked, gesturing to the cottage they were approaching.

Adélie shook her head. "It's just me and Kitty," she said. She broke away from Aramis and ram for the door. "Kitty! Kitty! I brought two messieurs! They saved me!"

Moments later, just as the girl reached the door, a young woman dressed in a plain brown dress appeared. "Adélie! Look at yourself !" she exclaimed, crouching down. She grabbed the child's arms to hold her still. "What have I said about going into the village? Do you enjoy being tormented so?"

"I just wanted-."

"Go to your room and get yourself clean," the woman ordered, standing up. It was only then, as Adélie slipped inside, that the woman noticed the two musketeers. "Messieurs!"

"Madame," Aramis said, giving a half bow. "I am Aramis and this is D'Artagnan. We saw Little Adélie being bullied and chased off the boys before she was seriously harmed."

"Oh," the woman said, reaching a hand up to her fair hair self-consciously. "Then, I must thank you. Please come in and have some wine."

She stepped back to allow them to enter. She hurried into the kitchen and the two men followed her. The cottage was small and well kept, though furnishings were sparse. "I have told Adélie time and again to only go with me into the village," the woman said, searching in a cupboard. She pulled a bottle out and blew dust off it. "I am Kitty Villeux by the way."

"You are not Adélie's mother?" D'Artagnan asked.

Pausing, the woman shook her head vigorously. "Oh, no, monsieur!" she said. "I just care for and teach her as best as I can." She set two wooden goblets on the table. There was thud from over head. "Adélie!" Mademoiselle Villeux exclaimed. "Excuse me, messieurs."

She hurried out of the kitchen. Aramis opened the wine and poured a very small amount into the goblets. The bottle was nearly empty as it was. "What are you doing?" D'Artagnan asked as Aramis began opening cupboards. "You can't just go through someone's kitchen!"

"As I thought," Aramis said, ignoring his friend and taking a very quick survey of what the kitchen contained. "Did you notice how very small and skinny Adélie is? They are just about out of food."

Stunned, D'Artagnan shook his head. "Where I'm from, if anyone was out of food, the rest of the village contributed until that family was back on its feet," D'Artagnan said.

Seriously, Aramis shook his head. "Not here," he answered. "Did you hear what those boys called Adélie? No one for miles will help Mademoiselle Villeux if it means helping a child like Adélie."

"Because Adélie is someone's illegitimate child," D'Artagnan said, understanding dawning. "It's not Adélie's fault! They will still let her starve?"

"It is the way of the world sometimes," Aramis answered. He scowled abruptly. "And apparently the parent, whoever it was who was previously sending funds, has decided not to support the child any longer. How much money do you have left?"

Reaching into his pockets, D'Artagnan pulled out a few crowns and handed it to Aramis. "With what I have, this should be enough," the former priest said. "I will be back, D'Artagnan."

Sipping sparingly at his wine, D'Artagnan walked around the kitchen. A few minutes after Aramis left, Mademoiselle Villeux returned. "I'm sorry for taking so long," she said, smoothing her now blue dress. "Adélie was having trouble. Where is your friend?"

"He had a business matter to attend to," D'Artagnan told her, "but he won't be long."

Nodding, Mademoiselle Villeux blushed and turned to her stove. "You and your friend won't be staying in the village long then?" she asked, pretending to be busy with cooking.

"No, my horse threw a shoe and we just stopped to have it repaired," D'Artagnan answered. "We're on our way back to Paris."

"Oh, Paris," Mademoiselle Villeux breathed, her hands becoming still. "Such a beautiful city. I miss it so much."

"You're from Paris?" D'Artagnan asked, taking a seat at the table. "Did you work for Adélie's mother there?"

The question made the woman freeze. "Yes, at times we were in Paris," she answered. She turned around. "I do wish you could stay longer, monsieur. Springtime makes the country very pretty."

She blushed again as she met his eyes. "I know," D'Artagnan said, puzzled by her behavior. "I grew up in the country. As much as I love being a musketeer, I'm glad of any excuse that gets me out to the country, like the mission Aramis and I just completed."

Mademoiselle Villeux's eyes widened. "A musketeer?" she said, taking a step back. "Of course you would be a musketeer," she continued, almost to herself.

"Monsieur, you are truly a musketeer?" Adélie's awed voice said. D'Artagan tried to keep from laughing. While her dress was now clean, the child standing in the doorway had very muddy feet. Her black hair hung around her face in loose curls, wet from being washed. "Will you tell me?"  
D'Artagnan smiled. "What do you want to know?"

Glancing at Mademoiselle Villeux, Adélie frowned. "Are girls allowed?" she asked, her tone perfectly serious.

Startled, D'Artagnan bit his lip to keep from laughing. "I'm afraid not," He answered, when he'd had a moment to contain himself. "Why? Do you want to be a musketeer and fight for the king and France?"

Adélie frowned seriously. "No," she decided. "I don't think it would be much fun. But will you show me your sword anyway?"  
Chuckling, D'Artagnan stood up and drew his rapier out. He held it out with both hands. "You can look, but you can't touch, all right?" he warned, holding it for her to look at. "Mademoiselle Villeux wouldn't like it if you were hurt."

Putting her hands behind her back, Adélie studied the steel blade. She nodded once and took a step back. "You are a musketeer," she said. Laughing out right, D'Artagnan sheathed the sword. "Have you been on many adventures, Monsieur D'Artagnan?"

"Adélie, you must not be a pest," Mademoiselle Villeux advised. "Go outside."

A stubborn look crossed the child's face and she climbed up on the bench next to D'Artagnan. "No, I'm talking to Monsieur D'Artagnan," she said, wrapping her arms around the man's arm. "I'm not being a pest!"

"It's all right, Mademoiselle," D'Artagnan said, intervening before the woman could react. "I don't mind. Yes, Adélie, I have been on some adventures. I haven't been a musketeer for very long."

"Oh."

There was no mistaking the disappointment in the girl's voice. "But, how about I tell you about the first time I met my friend Aramis, and how we beat a whole group the Cardinal's guards," D'Artagnan suggested. "There were four of us against forty of them."

"Really?" Adélie breathed, leaning closer.

* * *

It was in the middle of this tale that Aramis returned. He paused in the doorway and watched in amusement as his young friend demonstrated how Athos had taken on six guards with no effort. Adélie and Mademoiselle Villeux were clearly hanging on every word.

"D'Artagnan, your horse's shoe has been fixed," the former priest said, reluctantly interrupting the tale. Dropping his arm, D'Artagnan spun around, face flushing from embarrassment. "We need to return to Paris. M. Treville is waiting for our report."

"Oh, no!" Adélie exclaimed, scrambling off the bench. She rushed to Aramis, and grabbed his hand. "Please. A little longer? Monsieur D'Artagnan hasn't done your part in the battle yet!"

"I'm afraid we must go," Aramis told her, amused by her plea.

Getting to her feet, Mademoiselle Villeux flushed as she wrung her hands together. "I wish there was some way I could repay you for what you've done for me today," she said, her tone sincere as she looked between the two men. She focused on D'Artagnan. "Thank you."

D'Artagnan didn't seem to realize, as Aramis did, that the young woman was smitten. "It was no problem, Mademoiselle," D'Artagnan answered. He joined Aramis at the door. He frowned when he saw no basket of food in his friend's hands, but Aramis gave him a sharp, pointed look to stay silent for now.

Still clinging to Aramis' hand, Adélie walked out with them to where Aramis had tied the horses. "Will I ever see you again?" the five year old asked earnestly. "No one else ever talks to me. Except for Kitty, but she doesn't really count because she's supposed to take care of me."

Kneeling down, Aramis held the girl's hands in his. "Adélie, can you do something for me?" he asked. Her eyes widening, Adélie nodded. "You see over there by the door? Those two baskets? Once D'Artagnan and I ride away, I want you to show those baskets to Mademoiselle Villeux, all right?"

Glancing back, Adélie nodded again. "Good girl," Aramis said, standing up. "Au revoir, Adélie."

"Wait!" Adélie exclaimed, almost desperately. She let go of Aramis' hand and ran to the side of the cottage. She dug in the dirt for a moment, picked something up, and rushed back. She held the item out. "I know it's not really real and is just a fake ring, but I want you to have it."

Aramis chuckled as D'Artagnan accepted the dirt clump. "Au revoir, Adélie," the young Gascon said as he mounted Buttercup. "Be good for Mademoiselle Villeux. And don't go into the village alone. It's not good for you."

"Yes, monsieur," Adélie said with a sigh worthy of any world weary traveler.

The pair rode away. Aramis saw D'Artagnan look back and wave. The former priest also glanced back, Adélie was waving, jumping up and down. Then, she bolted for the house to carry out her promise.

"I tried to learn something about Adélie parents," D'Artagnan told Aramis.

The former priest nodded. "As did I, in the village," he responded gravely. "All anyone would say was that one day, five years ago, Mademoiselle Villeux was in the cottage with Adélie. Letters used to come, but nothing has come for the past two years."

"I wish there was something more we could do for them," D'Artagnan said.

"Unfortunately, we can't save the world, D'Artagnan," Aramis told him. "Let's get to Paris.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: And it just came to my attention that there is another Athos' daughter fic in this section of . Sorry about that.**_

* * *

Two days later, Aramis and D'Artagnan made their report to M. Treville and returned to their home. They found Porthos yelling at Planchet over something. The large man stopped mid-insult and turned to greet his friends. "Finally you're here," he said. "What took you so long?"

"We're back within the time frame we set," Aramis answered, dropping his saddlebags onto the table. "Why? Did you miss us?"

Porthos scowled as Planchet made his escape to the kitchen. "No, it's Athos," he told them.

"What happened to Athos?" D'Artagnan asked swiftly. "Where is he?"

"Calm down, boy," Porthos told him. "All I know is this: Planchet says that yesterday, Athos received some letter and then left. He didn't come back and at one in the morning, just when I was getting to sleep mind you, there's a knock on the door. It was Henri from the Drowned Cat tavern just down the street. He said he'd tried to kick Athos out; that he thought Athos was dead drunk."

His audience snorted at that. "And did he learn his mistake?" Aramis asked.

"I'm getting to that," Porthos said. "Anyway, he tried to kick Athos out into the streets, but Athos managed to get to the cellar of the tavern. And that has been where he's stayed since then. I've tried talking to him but he won't listen to a word I have to say."

Frowning, D'Artagnan shook his head. "Let me get this straight," he said. "Athos has locked himself in a cellar and no one can get him out? Is that what you're saying?"

"That's it," Porthos said. "That's the story."

D'Artagnan laughed. "Why on earth would he do that?" he asked.

"Why don't we go down to the tavern and see if we can't find out," Aramis said with a sigh. How many times must they deal with Athos' bad temper? He wondered what could have provoked this episode; it couldn't be Milady and she'd been the only one to drive Athos to this extreme.

The trio went down the tavern. Henri, an older man with silver hair, nearly wept with joy on seeing them. "Please, you must do something," he said. "I can't get to my stores, and I'm losing business with every hour. You must get him out of there."

Aramis nodded. "We'll do the best we can, if you would please wait outside," he said. As the tavern owner hurried out, Aramis went to the cellar door and knocked on the wood. "Athos?" he called. "It's Aramis. D'Artagnan and I have returned. We'd like a drink if you could possibly spare us one."

He waited a moment, but there was only silence. "Athos, could we talk?" D'Artagnan asked, joining Aramis at the door.

A folded piece of paper slipped out from under the door. D'Artagnan picked up it up and unfolded it. "'Dear Monsieur,'" he read aloud, turning to face his other two friends. "'Please forgive my impudence in writing to you, but I have no where else to turn.

"'You may recall an event six years ago, that took Milady de Winter-.'" D'Artagnan looked up quickly.

Shaking his head, Porthos turned away. "If it has to do with Milady, we know what he's doing in tavern's cellar," he said. "It will take at least that much wine to make him drunk enough to forget."

"Go on, D'Artagnan," Aramis urged. "What does the rest of it say?"

Clearing his throat, D'Artagnan looked back down at the writing. "'-took Milady de Winter from Paris and your company. Though she claimed she had a mission in Italy, in truth she went to Northern France. I was sworn to secrecy at the time, but I confess all to you now. Milady was-.'"

The young man froze, his eyes widening. "Well?" Porthos demanded. "What does it say D'Artagnan? What sort of treachery was Milady doing in the north?"

"'Milady was with child at the time,'" D'Artagnan said, his voice choking. Feeling like he couldn't stand anymore, Aramis dropped into a seat while Porthos let his walking stick hit the ground. "'She gave birth to the child, and left me to care for it. She has always sent me enough funds to care for the child, but has not for the past two years. I have tried to make do, as I had sworn never to reveal the child's existence to you…'"

Unable to go on, D'Artagnan folded the paper closed. "I need a drink," Porthos said. "Damn him for locking himself in there with all the wine!"

Reaching over, Aramis took the letter and began to study it himself. "Athos, would you mind passing us out some wine?" D'Artagnan asked. "It's not fair of you to hoard it all."

The door creaked as it opened and Athos leaned against the doorframe. "You read it?" the man asked.

"Yeah," D'Artagnan said, reaching out. Athos brushed off the gesture impatiently. "Athos, I don't know what to say."

"There's nothing to say," Athos snapped. He leaned his head against the wood. He caught sight of Henri in the door of the tavern. "Oh, go on, old man. You can have your cellar back. Nothing of any worth is left down there now anyway."

Making a sound of protest, Henri across the room and hurried down to check the stores. "I think, perhaps, we should remove ourselves to some place that has some wine," Porthos said.

Nodding, Athos took a step forward, and nearly fell. D'Artagnan caught his right arm and Porthos grabbed hold of his left. With Aramis behind them, the group left the tavern as the bartender wailed from the cellar, "My wine!"

* * *

Athos stared into the flames. Planchet cleared away the barely touched meal. Somehow, none of the men had found the appetite to eat. "She didn't tell me," Athos said, breaking the silence. "Why am I still surprised that Milady wouldn't tell me about this?"  
"A child would only be a detriment to someone in her line of work," Porthos said. "Maybe the letter is a forgery. Someone who knew Milady could be trying to take advantage of you."

Taking off his spectacles, Aramis sighed. "D'Artagnan, did you happen to notice the signature?" he asked, quietly. He held the letter out when the younger man shook his head. "I think you should."

Leaving his half cleaned treasure in the dish, D'Artagnan stood up to get the letter. "What have you got there, lad?" Porthos asked, reaching over and picking up the ring. He whistled as he held it up to the light. "Where did you pick up this?"

Glancing over, D'Artagnan chuckled. "A little girl gave it to Aramis and I in payment for rescuing her from some bullies. Its just some little bauble she'd found," he answered. He gave the letter his full attention, and gave a start as he read the signature. "No," he breathed. "Adélie?"

"This has to sapphire," Porthos proclaimed, ignoring his young friend's reaction. "Clean it up a bit more and it will bring a good price. I think there's even a family crest of some sort engraved on the inside. What do you think, Athos?"

Athos barely looked over before he bolted to his feet. He snatched the ring out of Porthos' hand and stared hard at it. Slowly, he looked at Aramis and D'Artagnan. "Where did you get this?" he demanded, his voice low and intense.

"Didn't you just hear him?" Porthos asked. "He said a little girl gave it to him."

Closing his fingers around the ring, Athos shook his head. "I gave this ring to Milady, after our first mission together," he said. "It was a family heirloom of the de la Feres."

Quickly, D'Artagnan and Aramis exchanged looks. "Athos, I think you should sit down," Aramis advised. "D'Artagnan and I have a story to tell you."

Eyeing him, Athos sank back down, clutching the ring in his hand. "On our way back to Paris, we passed trough the village mentioned in this letter," Aramis began. "D'Artagnan's horse had thrown a shoe and we had to stop for some time in the village."

"We came across a little girl being tormented by some of the village boys." D'Artagnan took up the tale when Aramis looked at him. "As I said, we rescued her and took her to her home. She was living with a young woman by the name of Kitty Villeux."

Athos' eyes went to the letter. "Do you want to know your daughter's name?" Aramis asked. "It's Adélie."

"Adélie," Athos repeated.

"Mademoiselle Villeux is doing her best to look after Adélie," Aramis told him earnestly. "But Adélie is treated with contempt by the entire village. Those boys D'Artagnan mentioned? They pinned Adélie in a muddle puddle, and held her there. They called her a little bastard. And the villagers just watched it happen."

Porthos scowled. "I hope you kicked their asses," he said.

"Oh, we scared them off," D'Artagnan answered. "But, that wasn't even the worst thing about it all. I thought Adélie was just small, but Aramis saw that she was not getting enough food. They have nothing. Aramis went and got some food to leave for them."

"Damn," Athos said, closing eyes. He slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair. "Damn her!"

His friends stared at her. "Milady is dead, Athos," Porthos responded, guessing at which 'her' his friend was cursing. "It won't do any good."

"What are you going to do?" Aramis asked. "Time is of the essence."

Athos shook his head. "I have a suggestion," D'Artagnan said slowly. "If you don't want to have to worry about raising Adélie, we could take her to Gascony. To my parents. They're simple, poor people, but they wouldn't let any harm come to her."

"And we have living proof of what comes from Gascony," Porthos said, gesturing at D'Artagnan.

Still Athos said nothing. "Would your parents mind?" Aramis asked, turning to his young friend. "A five year old child would be a lot to handle, not to mention feeding and caring for."

"My mother would be thrilled to have a girl to spoil," D'Artagnan answered, with a smile. "I never wanted for anything."

They looked at Athos. The man stood up and walked out of the room. The door to his bedroom closed moments later. "I don't blame him for being upset," Porthos remarked. "If I found out I was a father, and had been for five years, not to mention the fact that the mother was a lying traitor, I wouldn't be of a mind for company."

"If Athos makes no decision soon, I will go get Adélie," Aramis said, very seriously. The other two in the room looked at him in astonishment. "Athos is practically our brother, and I, for one, will not allow any niece of mine to remain in this situation."

Porthos looked struck by that statement. "I could take her to Gascony," D'Artagnan told him.

"Give Athos some time," Porthos objected. "It's his child and his decision. He may decide to leave the musketeers and go back to his home."

"Possible," Aramis said as D'Artagnan looked alarmed by the thought. "But I will only give him until tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Apology time! I am so sorry it took me this long to get this posted. My internet has been wonky lately. And so, with that and the fact that I'm going on vacation, this is probably going to be the last chapter I can post before February. I regret that this is a short chapter too. Anyways, enjoy!**_

* * *

After a mainly sleepless night, D'Artagnan rose early the next morning. He found Athos up and packing his saddle bags. "Athos?" the young Gascon said hesitantly. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get my daughter," Athos told him, remaining focused on his task. "I've received a leave of absence from M. Treville."

"I'll come with you," D'Artagnan volunteered quickly. "I already have a week off."

"D'Artagnan-."

The young man shook his head. "I insist, Athos," he said firmly. "I know you're hurting about this whole thing, and I'm not going to let you do this alone. You're my family now."

Athos smiled a rare, fond smile. "Thank you, D'Artagnan," he said. "Hurry up if you're coming, then. I don't want to waste any time."  
"Don't think you two are leaving us behind," Porthos objected from the doorway. "Planchet! Planchet, where are you?"

Smiling, Aramis walked past Porthos and put his hand on Athos' shoulder. "All for one, Athos," he said. "Porthos, before you start yelling at Planchet, you need to get leave from M. Treville."

Without a word, Athos tossed a folded piece of paper to Porthos. The big man unfolded and read the letter granting him leave of absence with Athos. He laughed heartily. "You think you're so clever, don't you," he asked, looking at Athos.

"I know my friends well," Athos said in answer.

* * *

Due to heavy rain, it took over two days to get to the village. The second night they had to sleep out in the mud, which did nothing to make the trip pleasant. Not once did Athos ask any questions about Adélie. D'Artagnan assumed that his friend was afraid he'd learn that Adélie took after Milady.

Bypassing the village, the group went straight to the cottage. Despite the sunny day, there was an air of gloom surrounding the small home made worse by the front door that hung open. "Mademoiselle Villeux?" Aramis called out, dismounting first. "Adélie?"

There was no answer. Leaping to the ground, D'Artagnan rushed past Aramis into the cottage. "Adélie!" he shouted, desperate to find the girl. "Adélie, its D'Artagnan! Adélie, answer me!"

As he entered the kitchen, he froze. Mademoiselle Villeux lay on the floor, her eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling. Her throat has been slit. Reeling back, D'Artagnan thought he was going to be sick. A hand came down on his shoulder. "Steady, D'Artagnan," Athos said quietly. "Mademoiselle Villeux?"

Swallowing hard, D'Artagnan nodded. Aramis slipped past them and knelt by the body. He closed the woman's eyes and began to pray. Porthos walked in through the back door. "A single horse left, not long ago," he reported. He, too, blanched at the sight of the dead woman. "It headed to the village."

"Aramis, you and Porthos bury her," Athos said. "D'Artagnan and I will go to the village and learn what we can. Perhaps the child is there."

Glancing up, Aramis nodded. Porthos went to find a shovel. Leaving their horses, D'Artagnan and Athos walked to the village. "D'Artagnan," Athos began to say.

"I'm fine, Athos," D'Artagnan snapped. He took a deep breath. "I just hope Adélie is all right."

"You've returned," the blacksmith called out, leaving his forge. "What brings you back to our humble village?"

"Someone rode through here, not long ago," Athos said bluntly. "Where did he go?"

The man frowned. "Oh, yes," he said, nodding after a moment. "The Englishman. He rode straight to Mademoiselle Villeux's cottage, same as you just did, and came right back not an hour later. You'll have to ask the woman what it was that he wanted from her."

"Mademoiselle Villeux is dead," D'Artagnan snapped, angrily. "And Adélie is gone."

Surprised, the blacksmith grunted. "The Lord judges those who do wrong," he said piously. "It is not as though anyone will miss the brat."

Moving swiftly, Athos grabbed the man and threw him up against the wall. "Where did he go?" he demanded. "And was the child with him?"

Startled, the blacksmith raised a hand and pointed at the road. "B-back north, Monsieur, the way he'd come," he stammered. "Just after noon! I did see the girl in front of him."

Releasing the man, Athos turned and walked away. Glaring once at the blacksmith, D'Artagnan hurried to catch up to his friend. "It's Buckingham," Athos said, his tone harsh and angry. "He would do anything to get back at me. He's taken the child. They're headed for the English channel."

"What are we going to do?" D'Artagnan asked.

"We're going to catch them."


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Hello! I have returned. Hopefully, you all will continue to enjoy this. Here is the next chapter!**_

* * *

At the cottage, D'Artagnan helped fill in the grave. Aramis and Porthos agreed with Athos' conclusion of the matter. Leaving a small cross to mark Mademoiselle Villeux's lonely grave, the group set off to catch up to the quarry.

They were several hours behind, but it turned out to be a blessing. By riding past dark, using the light of the full moon to guide them, they caught sight of a campfire and were able to move in closer on foot. "They wouldn't risk going to an inn with Adélie," D'Artagnan said softly.

Leaving his three friends some distance from the campfire, Aramis slipped through the shadows to get a look at what they were up against. It was some time before he returned. Porthos was on the verge of suggesting he go after Aramis when the former priest stepped into view.

"This might be harder than we thought," he reported. "There's about ten of them, and most of them are French, not English. Three are standing guard that I can see."

"And Adélie?" D'Artagnan asked as Athos considered the information.

"She's on the far side of the camp," Aramis answered, his tone betraying his anger. "They have her tied and gagged."

Porthos scowled. "That's low," he said. "What trouble can a child possibly give them?"

Aramis shook his head. "You forget this is the daughter of Athos and Milady we're talking about," he pointed out. "I would expect her to be a lot of trouble if she put her mind to it."

"This is what we're going to do," Athos said in a low voice as Porthos and D'Artagnan chuckled. "We can't risk a fight, not with the child in the middle of it. We'll need a distraction so Aramis and I can sneak around to get her."

"Leave that to D'Artagnan and I," Porthos said with a grin.

* * *

The three men guarding the camp drew their swords as Porthos weaved unsteadily into the light of the campfire. D'Artagnan held back in the shadows, watching his friend. "Hello, good Messieurs!" Porthos said, hiccupping. "Would you mind if I joined your party?"

Disgusted, one of the men scowled at him. "Get out of here, you filthy drunk," he snapped in very poor French. He was the Englishman.

"I'm so sorry, Messieurs!" D'Artagnan exclaimed, his voice slurring slightly. He rushed up to his friend, ignoring the swords pointing at him. "He got away from me. Porthos, come on and leave these good men alone."

"They're having a party and I want in," Porthos objected, shrugging D'Artagnan's hand away. "Where's the wine?"

Sitting up, Adélie stared at the men with eyes wide with confusion and desperation. D'Artagnan heard the girl make a whimpering sound that nearly broke his heart. His temper almost got the better of him as the Englishman smacked the girl to the ground.

"You are on the land of the Comte de la Meries," a man said, glaring at D'Artagnan and Porthos. "You're trespassing. Now move along."

"Hold on," the Englishman said, his eyes narrowing. He stepped closer. "I know you. I know both of you! You were part of the group that attacked the Tower of London."

At the man's words, the entire group stepped forward. Spotting Aramis reaching for Adélie, D'Artagnan drew his sword. "So, what do you intend to do about that?" the young Gascon demanded, trying to keep their attention. He felt Porthos tense next to him.

One of the men looked back and spotted Aramis. "Hey!" he shouted. "It's a trap!"

D'Artagnan had no choice but to engage the closest opponent. "Aramis!" he shouted in warning.

Swearing in several languages, Aramis lunged to grab the girl. A steel blade slashed in front of his face. Twisting away, Aramis rolled and came to his feet with his sword in one hand and his dagger in the other.

"Get the girl out of here!" the leader shouted. He stumbled back as Porthos' walking stick slammed into his face.

Two of the soldiers peeled away from the group with the Englishman and reached Adélie. The Englishman grabbed the girl and rushed for the horses. D'Artagnan tried to follow them, but was blocked by three men. He glanced around swiftly. Aramis was the closest, but he was blocked by another two men.

Then, D'Artagnan saw Athos burst from the trees, taking out one of the soldiers. The second passed a kicking Adélie up to the Englishman who'd mounted a horse. Swinging wildly, D'Artagnan forced his opponents to back off and dodged to the side to help Athos.

As he ran, he saw the horse stumble and Adélie slipped from the English soldier's grasp. The girl hit the ground, and didn't move. The horse recovered, its hooves narrowly missing Adélie's head. Athos ran over, but the soldier leapt from the horse, tackling the musketeer.

"D'Artagnan, get her!" Athos shouted, shoving the man off him. He scrambled to his feet. Sparks flew as his blade met that of his opponent.

Swiftly, D'Artagnan ran to the child. "Adélie?" he said, turning her over gently. The girl made no move or sound. A musket fired, and D'Artagnan felt the bullet fly past his ear. Ducking down, he scooped Adélie up and ran.

Clouds moved over the moon as the young Gascon dodged through the trees. A couple more bullets flew past him. Abruptly, D'Artagnan randomly chose a tree and skidded to a halt behind it. He crouched down to hide from any pursuers, holding Adélie close.

The distant sounds of battle had faded to nothing, and D'Artagnan wished he'd been there to help his friends. He tensed as he heard someone walking nearby. He flexed his fingers around the hilt of his rapier. As he adjusted Adélie into a position he'd be able to fight back while holding her, his fingers came into contact with something warm and sticky: blood.

Adélie's blood.

A twig snapped only a few feet away. D'Artagnan raised his sword and slashed out defensively. There was a pause and then he heard, "D'Artagnan?"

"Athos!" D'Artagnan exclaimed in relief. The clouds moved past the moon, and he saw his friend standing just beyond the reach of his sword. "I could have killed you!"

Moving forward, Athos knelt down. "Are you all right?"

"I am, but Adélie's bleeding," D'Artagnan answered succinctly. "I think she hit her head when she fell from the horse."

Gently, Athos took the child from his friend and straightened up. He turned and started back with D'Artagnan only a step behind him. They hurried towards the fire, not quite at a run, but close enough to it.


	6. Chapter 6

At the campfire, Aramis and Porthos had dragged all the bodies away, and had cleaned it up a bit. "Aramis," was all Athos said as he strode in the light. He laid Adélie on the ground as close to the warmth of the fire as possible. "She's been hurt."

Spotting the dark stain of blood on D'Artagnan's shirt, Porthos grabbed the young man's shoulders. "My god, lad, are you all right?" he demanded in concern.

"I'm fine," D'Artagnan said, trying wave him away. "There's not a scratch on me. This is all from Adélie."

Giving the young Gascon a quick check, Porthos nodded and turned. Aramis was on his knees leaning over the small child. Athos had grabbed a knife and was cutting through the ropes that bound Adélie's hands together. D'Artagnan hurried over. "What do you need?" he asked. "Will she be all right?"

"My saddlebags," Aramis answered, glancing up. He pressed his handkerchief against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. "It looks worse than it is, but I'm going to have to sew this shut before she loses too much blood."

Swiftly, D'Artagnan darted off into the trees. Crouching down, Porthos got his first good look at his friend's daughter. Her feet were bare and the plain brown dress she wore was short. Half of her face was covered with blood, but still with her dark wavy hair framing her face, Porthos thought he could see something of Athos in her. With three men leaning over her, the child looked impossibly tiny.

Carefully, Athos cut the gag and pulled it from the girl's mouth. He brushed Adélie's cheek, a move Porthos had only seen him use with D'Artagnan when the boy was ill or injured. "What do you need me to do?" Porthos asked, looking at Aramis.

"Hold her down in case she wakes up," Aramis said, glancing from Athos to Porthos. "I hope she doesn't, but we can't be too careful."

Nodding, Porthos grasped the girl's ankles and Athos moved his hands down to hold the Adélie's arms. D'Artagnan returned, and dropped the saddlebags next to Aramis.

"D'Artagnan, I'm going to need a little more light, and then I want you to hold her head still," Aramis instructed, searching in his bags. He drew it thread and needle, and threaded the needle. He paused. "I've never had to do this to a child before."

There was no mistaking the uncertainty in his voice. "There's no one else," Athos said, his tone gruff. "I know you can do this, Aramis."  
D'Artagnan tossed some more wood on the fire. He then knelt beside Aramis. Carefully, he took the girl's head between his hands, holding her like she was made of glass. Porthos could agree; the girl felt like the slightest pressure would make her bones snap.

Taking a deep breath, Aramis went to work. Porthos couldn't watch. If it had been any of his friends, he could have born it. But this was a five year old little girl. Looking everywhere else but the wound being closed, Porthos noticed that his friends were having the same issue. Athos was staring out at the woods as if keeping watch, and D'Artagnan was staring over Aramis' head at the fire.

Maybe if they had been watching they would have been ready when Adélie woke up. As it was, Porthos was startled when one foot slipped from his grasp and slammed against his jaw. It was enough to knock him off balance. Landing on his rear end, Porthos watched in astonishment as the girl yanked her right hand free of Athos' grip and swung at Aramis.

"Adélie," Aramis exclaimed, pulling back. He tried not to yank on the thread. "Adélie, it's all right!"

Adélie's eyes were wide with pain and fear as she continued to struggle. Her chest heaved and her nostrils were flared as she breathed quickly. But through it all, she didn't make a sound.

"Adélie, it's me!" D'Artagnan said, trying to keep her head still. "Its D'Artagnan and Aramis. We're not going to hurt you!"

"Adélie, that's enough," Athos said, with that authoritative note in his voice. He grasped the girl's hand and forced it down. "Hold still."  
Porthos wasn't really surprised to see Adélie freeze, her eyes going to Athos' face. That particular tone had been used on more people than Porthos could count, even a couple times on himself. He was amused to see that D'Artagnan had also gone still, probably out of habit.

"Adélie, you're safe now," Aramis spoke to the girl, his tone calm and soothing. "I'm just going to finish, all right? I know it hurts but it has to be done."

Leaning forward, Porthos grabbed her legs again, his grip a little firmer this time. "And I can finish the story, Adélie," D'Artagnan said, his tone cheerful. Adélie shifted her gaze to him, still very tense. "Where'd I leave off? Oh, yeah. I was just getting to Porthos' part of the fight, wasn't I?"

As D'Artagnan began to relate Porthos' part in the fight with the cardinal's guards, Aramis went back to his task. Keeping her gaze on D'Artagnan's face, Adélie's eyes glistened with tears. Porthos could feel her starting to tremble, though whether it was from fear or shock setting in he couldn't tell.

"There," Aramis finally said, interrupting D'Artagnan's description of Buckingham's airship. He cut off the excess thread. He pulled a clean shirt out and tore a strip off it. He lifted Adélie's head and wrapped the cloth around her head. "Now, I'll clean your face so you'll look like yourself again."

Athos let go of her at last, and Porthos noticed his friend's hands were shaking. Though they were no longer needed, they stayed by the child.

"Monsieur, I don't feel so well," Adélie whispered, speaking for the first time.

"I know, Adélie," Aramis answered, getting another piece of his shirt wet. He wiped her face clean of the blood. "How about I make you some place comfortable to lie down and you can go back to sleep?"

D'Artagnan helped Adélie sit up. Athos reached up, but he didn't actually touch her for the girl recoiled. "Adélie, I'd like you to meet Porthos and..." D'Artagnan hesitated, glancing at Athos. "And Athos. They fought the Cardinal's guards with me."

Adélie glanced between them but said nothing. She leaned against D'Artagnan, and closed her eyes. There as no denying the fact that Adélie trusted the young Gascon, and that D'Artagnan was quickly becoming attached to the girl.

"I don't know much about kids, but I'm fairly certain that's not normal behavior," Porthos remarked, unsettled by the silent child.

Aramis shook his head as he leaned back on his heels. "She's in shock," he said, though he also sounded concerned.

"No, she's small, she's been bullied before, and she's hurt," D'Artagnan corrected, putting his arm around the girl. "When you're small, you don't say or do anything, otherwise the bullies hurt you worse. It's one of the first things you learn," he added, very quietly.

Athos rose and walked to the edge of the camp. "And that's why she kicked me and tried to hit Aramis?" Porthos said in disbelief.

Chuckling, D'Artagnan shook his head. "We get our hits in when we can," he said.


	7. Chapter 7

As the sun started to rise, Athos stretched and stood up to build up the fire. He'd insisted on keeping watch during the night since he'd known there was no way he would get any sleep. He piled more wood and stirred up the flames. He looked down at Adélie and shook his head.

Curled closest to the fire, Adélie had D'Artagnan's saddle bags as a pillow, Aramis' jacket as a cushion to sleep on, and Porthos' cloak as a blanket. Thankfully, she no longer looked as pale as she had in the night, but she was so tiny.

She hadn't said anything else before falling asleep against D'Artagnan. Athos almost smiled as he remembered how the girl had clung to the young Gascon. D'Artagnan had handled her with care and respect, which was probably why the girl trusted him.

That train of thought led him to how she'd been treated in her short life. Athos scowled. At five years of age, Adélie knew that strangers were not to be trusted and it shouldn't be like that. Children were not supposed to fear everyone they meet. If he'd known sooner…

Athos rubbed his forehead. Things would have been different. That Milady- Sabine- could have hidden the child from him- well, he knew she was capable of that. But he'd never forgive her for it. He would have gone back to his estates gladly to care for the child, but Sabine never would have accepted that. She would have left that much sooner, and maybe he'd never have been discovered just what a viper she really was.

"Monsieur?"

Adélie's quiet voice caught his attention and he looked down at her. Blue eyes, a darker shade than Sabine's, peered up at him sleepily. "I have to…" she said hesitantly. Her eyes went to the woods.

"Oh," Athos said realizing a second later just what she was trying to convey. He helped her to her feet and made sure she was steady. "Don't go too far. Do you need-?"

"I can do it on my own," Adélie insisted. She vanished into the trees and was gone for several minutes. Just as Athos was ready to go look for her, she came creeping back, shivering violently. There was a light frost on the ground, and her feet were bare.

"Come here," Athos invited, holding his arms out.

Hesitating, Adélie slowly walked towards him. Athos settled on the ground next to the fire and the girl curled up in his lap. He wrapped his arms around her. Adélie leaned her head against his chest with a sigh. "Comfortable?" Athos asked, reaching over to pull Porthos' cloak over her.

"Yes," Adelie answered. She fell silent, watching the flames. "Monsieur, may I ask you a question?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Why," Adélie said, her already soft voice becoming almost impossible to hear. "Why did he kill Kitty? And why did he take me?"

Sighing, Athos dropped his head until his chin rested on top of her head. "He worked for a man called Buckingham," he explained, choosing his words carefully. "Mademoiselle Villeux, Kitty, was killed because she was protecting you. You were taken because of…who your father is."

"Oh," Adélie said. "Buckingham had the airship, right?"

Athos hadn't been sure just how much of D'Artagnan's tale Adélie had head, but evidently she'd been paying attention. "Yes," he said. "Buckingham wants a war with France. Buckingham and I are not on good terms."

"D'Artagnan said Buckingham hates Athos," Adélie said slowly, like she was figuring something out. "You're Athos right?"

"I am."

The girl twisted around suddenly. "So, if that man came to get me because of my father, and Buckingham hates you, does that mean you're my father?" she asked. Her eyes scanned his face.

Dumbfounded, Athos stared at her. "Yes, I am," he finally said.

Adélie nodded. "Thought so," she said, settling back down. She shivered once. 'My head still hurts."

"I imagine it will for a while," Athos said, surprised by the sudden change of subject. "Adélie, I-"

"Kitty said you didn't know about me," Adélie interrupted with a yawn. "She said my mother didn't tell you. Kitty sent you a letter because she hadn't heard from my mother. Can I have something to eat now?"

"We'll have to see what we can find," Athos told her. He got the feeling his daughter didn't want to talk about it anymore.

Nearby, Porthos yawned loudly and stretched his arms. "I'm starved," he declared, sitting up. "Aramis!"

Suspicious, Athos eyed them all as Aramis and D'Artagnan sat up. "Get your own food," Aramis told Porthos, looking everywhere but at Athos and Adélie. And Athos knew they all had been listening in. He shook his head.

* * *

Soon after eating some dried beef, Aramis checked Adélie's head. He decided the bandage really wasn't necessary as long as she stayed out of any mud. D'Artagnan volunteered to have the girl ride with him. And as soon as she was settled in the saddle in front of him, Adélie demanded to know how it was possible for a ship to fly.

They rode all day, not as hard as they normally would, but at a steady pace. A rainstorm that evening forced them to stop at an inn. Because of the rain, the rooms were filled, and the group was forced to take shelter in the barn. At least, they had a hot meal inside.

Porthos provoked D'Artagnan into a wrestling match. Adélie watched them, keeping her distance. Sitting beside Athos on a straw bale, Aramis decided now was the time to address a serious question. "What's your plan?" he asked.

"Treville needs to know what's happened," Athos answered seriously. "It's no coincidence that the Englishman took shelter on de la Meries' land. Those men were all trained soldiers. If Buckingham has support here in France, something will have to be done."

Aramis frowned. 'You know that's not what I meant," he said. "I was talking about Adélie." Athos didn't say anything. "Do you plan on leaving the musketeers?"

"I don't know," Athos snapped, his tone low and harsh. "Aramis, I just don't know. How can I leave the corps now that there's war between France and England?"

Shaking his head, Aramis put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Whatever you decide, you know we're behind you," he said.

A laugh caught their attention. Adélie had climbed up on a stable partition to get a better view of Porthos and D'Artagnan's fight. She let go of the wood to clap her hands as D'Artagnan managed to escape Porthos' choke hold. She wobbled dangerously.

"Adélie!" Athos exclaimed, lunging to his feet.

The girl fell off the wood. D'Artagnan threw himself forward. He managed to catch the girl mid-air and pulled her to his chest. He landed on the floor with Adélie on top of him. "Whew," he breathed. "You all right?"

"What were you thinking?" Athos demanded, grabbing Adélie and setting her on her feet. He glared down at the girl. "You could have gotten yourself killed! I never want to see you do something like that again! Do you understand?"

Adélie stared at him, a stubborn look forming on her face. "Athos, it was an accident," D'Artagnan said, scrambling to his feet. He backed off as Athos shifted the glare to him.

"It's time for bed," Athos told Adélie.

"No."

Flinching, Aramis closed his eyes. "Yes, it is," Athos said firmly. He picked the girl up and carried her to the hay. He set her down and remained crouched in front of her. "Go to sleep."

"No." Adélie crossed her arms.

Saying nothing, Athos just watched her. After several long moments, the girl started to look uncertain. She dropped her arms and stepped back. She grabbed Porthos' cloak and pulled it over her head as she curled into the hay.

Aramis chuckled. "And you didn't think you'd make a good father," he said. "Good night, Adélie."

"Good night," Adélie answered, her voice muffled by the cloak.

"If we get an early start, we can probably make it to Paris by tomorrow night," Porthos said. "We all may as well turn in."

To Aramis' surprise, Athos stretched out on the same hay pile near Adélie. The girl scooted over a little closer. By the time morning came, the former priest guessed the pair would be right next to each other.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: And I'm back again. Sorry for the long wait, and if I've missed any reviews that I usually respond to, I am very sorry. Life has been pretty crazy. This is a short chapter, but that's just the way it worked out. Hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

D'Artagnan was amused to find Adélie curled right up next to Athos' chest. Many a time, on cold nights, he'd been a similar position. But the sight made him think seriously about the future. He didn't want Athos to leave the musketeers, but that seemed like the likeliest outcome.

On the ride, D'Artagnan mulled this over. Athos was never one to shirk responsibility, and Adélie was a big responsibility. The young Gascon glanced over to where Adélie rode with Aramis, presumably getting another opinion on D'Artagnan's stories.

It was a relief to see the Paris lights. It was very late, and Adélie was fast asleep, leaning against Aramis. They didn't bother to wake Planchet when they arrived home. Athos carried Adélie in while Porthos took care of the horses. "Adélie can sleep in my room," D'Artagnan offered, yawning. "I don't mind sleeping on the floor."

"Keep your room, D'Artagnan," Athos told him. "I've slept many a night in a chair. I can do so again."

Too tired to argue, D'Artagnan nodded and headed for bed. He was asleep within moments of laying his head down, even with his concerns whirling around his head. When he got up in the morning, Adélie was still sleeping and his friends were around the table.

"D'Artagnan, I want you to look after Adélie today," Athos said, his tone sharp. Whatever he'd been discussing with Aramis and Porthos, it had left him in a sour mood. "Planchet is going to see about getting her some decent clothes."

Handing D'Artagnan a bowl of porridge, Planchet looked none too thrilled about his task. "What are you going to be doing?" D'Artagnan asked.

"Buckingham obviously has some nobles supporting him here in France," Aramis answered. "We're going to report what we've found out to Treville so he can warn the king. At the very least, he can look into de la Meries."

"And then what?" D'Artagnan asked. He was half afraid Athos would be telling Treville he was leaving. He didn't want to lose his friend this soon.

Athos said nothing. "I think that's still a work in progress," Aramis told him.

Nodding, D'Artagnan said no more on the subject. His friends left, and soon after, Adélie made her appearance. Tangled hair in her face, she crawled up in a chair and regarded Planchet very seriously as he set a bowl of porridge in front of her. "Thank you," she said, quiet and polite.

"Oh. You're welcome, mademoiselle," Plenchet responded in surprise. "Will there be anything else?"

"You better take Adélie's measurements," D'Artagnan reminded. He chuckled as Planchet convinced Adélie to stand on the chair and the lackey took her measurements. Adélie sat back down and ate only a little porridge. "So, are you ready to see Paris, Adélie?"

"Will I see my mother now?"

Startled, D'Artagnan blinked. "Your mother?"

"Yes," Adélie said calmly, pushing her hair out of her face. "Kitty said my mother came to Paris often. So if we're here, is my mother here too?"

D'Artagnan hesitated. "Uh, no, she's not," he answered. "Adélie, things between your mother and your father…weren't very good."

Adélie nodded. "I know," she said. "Kitty told me my mother was almost playing with my father's feelings, which wasn't very nice of her. I know my mother left me behind, but I just thought I could maybe see her, just once."

"Kitty told you a lot of things, didn't she?"

The girl nodded again. "It was just us," she said, as though that explained everything. "D'Artagnan, do I have any brothers or sisters?"

"No, you don't. At least, not that I know of," D'Artagnan answered, surprised by the sudden change of subject. "Adélie, why don't you ask Athos…your father these questions? He'd be able to answer them better than I could."

"I don't know if he likes me yet," Adélie confided. "D'Artagnan, do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Adélie, of course Athos likes you. You're his daughter," D'Artagnan told her, ignoring the last question. "Athos…well, he just doesn't express himself like a lot of people do. And he's still trying to get used to knowing you. You were a big surprise."

A serious expression on her face, Adélie just listened quietly. "You didn't answer my question," she pointed out.

D'Artagnan almost smiled. It was as if Athos himself had spoken: Adélie was done with the subject and would speak no more about it. "No, Adélie, I don't have any brothers or sisters," he told her. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, I asked Aramis if he would be my brother, but he said he'd be my uncle instead," Adélie answered earnestly. "Porthos is big and kinda scary. And he'd be an uncle too, I think, since Aramis is my uncle. So, that leaves you to be my brother. Will you?"

"I'd be happy to be your brother, Adélie," D'Artagnan said, touched.

"Will we see the palace?"

"If you want," D'Artagnan said. "Now, come on. We've got a lot to see, little sister."

Grinning, Adélie jumped to her feet and grabbed his hand. "I like having a brother."


	9. Chapter 9

D'Artagnan and Adélie spent the day exploring the streets of Paris together. The young musketer was careful which streets he took the child down. His time spent on patrol had shown him the streets that were safe, and the ones that it would be best not to expose Adélie to.

Not just for the things she would see, but also Athos would probably end up killing him if he found out.

It was late in the afternoon when the pair finally returned to the musketeers lodgings. Athos was there, though there was no sign of Aramis or Porthos. Athos sat, staring at the fireplace, a dark expression on his face.

Spotting the look on his friend's face, D'Artagnan hesitated. Before he could steer Adélie in a different direction, the girl bounced across the room. "Look what D'Artagnan bought me," she said, holding up a dark blue ribbon.

Holding his breath, D'Artagnan waited, tensely, for the usual snap that came when anyone disturbed Athos in a dark mood like this. But it didn't come.

"D'Artagnan will spoil you," Athos said, sitting up. He reached out and turned Adélie around. He glanced over at D'Artagnan with a raised eyebrow. "And why did he let you out looking like you've been dragged through a forest?"

"But I haven't been dragged through a forest!"

"It wasn't that long ago that you were," Athos responded, attempting, rather poorly, to untangle her hair. Yawning, Adélie leaned back against him. "I suppose its to much to hope that Planchet would have thought of this while he was out getting things?"

Letting his breath out slowly, D'Artagnan shrugged. "All we asked was that he get clothes," he said, grateful that, while Athos still looked like he would rather be out drinking himself into oblivion, the older musketeer was making an effort not to let Adélie feel the effects of it.

"Master Athos," Planchet said, creeping from the kitchen carefully. He set a medium sized bundle on the table. "I believe I acquired everything needed for Mademoiselle Adélie."

Hearing her name, Adélie lifted her head, all traces of fatigue gone. "For me!" she exclaimed, lunging away from Athos. She reached up and snatched the bundle. "What's in it?"

"Open it and see," Athos instructed.

Sitting on the floor, Adélie tore into the wrapping, her small fingers working at the string. D'Artagnan took the moment to go to Athos' side. "What did Monsieur de Treville say?" he asked in a low voice.

With Adélie distracted, Athos allowed his brooding look to return full force. "Treville was in conference with the king all day," he answered. "I have to return tomorrow. You're going to have to look after Adélie again."

"Again?" D'Artagnan asked, mildly disappointed. As much as he was fond of the girl, there were things he wanted to do that would only get interrupted by Adélie's presence. "I was going to go see Constance and let her know where I've been..."

"There's no reason Adélie can't go with you," Athos said harshly. He closed his eyes and breathed in. "D'Artagnan. Please. I can hardly leave her with Planchet, can I?"

Sighing, D'Artagnan nodded, seeing the truth in that. "All right." He only hoped Constance would understand.

"Look!" Adélie exclaimed, holding up a light blue dress. "My ribbon will match it!"

"What else do you have there?" D'Artagnan asked, crouching down beside her.

Eagerly, Adélie spread out the contents of the bundle. Several articles of clothes, a simple hairbrush and comb, and a small, cloth doll. "Its soo clean," Adélie said, her eyes wide with wonder.

"And you are not," Athos said, eyeing her carefully. "That's something we're going to have to change."

Flushing red, D'Artagnan scrambled to his feet and backed up. "I'm going to...go out," he said swiftly. He darted for the door, not giving anyone a chance to respond.

"Where's D'Artagnan going?" Adélie asked in puzzlement.

"Out," Athos answered. "Planchet, fill up a tub for Adélie."

* * *

When he returned that night, Aramis found Athos asleep in front of the fire, Adélie likewise fast asleep on his lap. An empty goblet was on the floor next to the chair. Shaking his head, Aramis took the time to check the stitches on Adélie's forehead. What he saw made him grimace and he drew back with a frown.

"What's wrong?" Athos asked in a gravelly voice. He gazed at his friend and brother in arms, his eyes only half open.

"I'll have to remove the stitches tomorrow," Aramis announced quietly.

He noticed that Athos' arms tightened slightly. Adélie murmured something unintelligible in her sleep, nuzzling her head against Athos' shoulder. Athos waited until she was settled before he spoke again, "It can't wait?"

"Any longer and it will be even more painful for her," Aramis informed him, knowing that as it was, it was not going to be pleasant for any of them. Athos nodded once in acknowledgment. "Have you decided what you will do?"

"What would you do?" Athos demanded, his tone sharp.

Sighing, Aramis looked at the fire. "If I were in your place, Athos, things wouldn't be the same," he answered. "We've led very different lives." He hesitated. He wasn't sure if Athos had heard the plan he, Porthos, and D'Artagnan had formed. "But, there is an option we had thought of."

Quietly, he outlined the plan of taking Adélie to Gascony, to D'Artagnan's parents. Athos listened, but then didn't say anything. "Athos, she will draw unwanted attention if she stays here much longer," Aramis pointed out in exasperation. "After all she's been through, do you really want to put her through that?"

"You really want me to abandon her like Mi...her mother did?"

Aramis hesitated. "Is it abandoning her if your doing what would be best for her to grow up without the fear that someone will come after her again?"

"I have to speak to Treville tomorrow," Athos said abruptly. "I'll decide after that."  
Carefully, he stood up and carried his sleeping daughter to bed. Aramis shook his head.

The next morning, Porthos glared at his friends when he was the only one who knew how to braid Adélie's dark hair. He tied the braid off with the ribbon D'Artagnan had gotten for her the day before. Clean and clothed in her new dress, Adélie spun in a circle in front of them.

"Very pretty, Adélie," Aramis complimented. "You will make all the ladies of court jealous when they see you."

"I'm really going to the palace?" Adélie asked for the tenth time.

"Yes," all four men said at the same time. Adélie just grinned at them and ate the porridge Planchet set in front of her.

* * *

Leaving at the same time, Porthos, Aramis and Athos headed for the Musketeers headquarters, and D'Artagnan went towards the palace. It took longer to get to the palace than it normally did since D'Artagnan was once again careful to avoid the shadier parts of Pairs. He was well known, so there was no problem getting past the gates. He made for the gardens, knowing exactly where Constance would be.

"D'Artagnan!" the young lady exclaimed, springing to her feet when she saw him. She placed her book on the garden bench. "What are you doing here? Where have you been?"

"I came to see you," D'Artagnan told her. He put his hand on Adélie's shoulder. "And may I introduce you to Athos's daughter, Adélie. Adélie, this is Mademoiselle Constance Bonacieux."

Surprised, Constance smiled at the girl. "I'm pleased to meet you, Adélie," she said. She glanced at D'Artagnan. "Since when does Athos have a daughter?"

"You're the lady D'Artagnan rescued from the airship!" Adélie exclaimed.

"Yes, she is, Adélie," D'Artagnan told her. "It's a long story, Constance. Sit down and I'll tell you all about it."

As the couple sat down, Adélie began to explore the garden path and the spring flowers that were coming up. D'Artagnan was just getting to how he'd helped rescue Adélie from the Englishman when Constance stopped him. "D'Artagnan, where's Adélie?" she asked, looking around.

Jumping up, D'Artagnan searched the path. There was no sign of the girl. "Athos is going to kill me!"


	10. Chapter 10

Having grown bored of the conversation, Adélie had wandered away to find something else to amuse herself. An wide, open doorway had led into a very large, spacious room. She spotted a pretty chess set on a table, and walked over. She went up on her tip toes to reach it.

Her fingers had just curled around a pawn when a voice startled her, "Hello there."

The chess piece toppled over as Adélie spun around. A woman in a beautiful cream colored dress stood in the doorway. Several other women were behind her. Some looked shocked, some annoyed, and a few looked amused.

"Hello," Adélie said, putting her hands behind her back.

"What's your name, little one?" the beautiful woman asked, coming forward.

"Adélie."

Smiling, the woman knelt in front of her. "Do you know who I am, Adélie?" she asked. Adélie shook her head, regarding the woman seriously. "My name is Anne. You're in my home."

"Anne?" Adélie repeated with a frown. She heard some of the other women gasp in horror. "Oh, are you the queen?"

Anne laughed softly. "Yes, I am."

Wobbling, Adélie bobbed a curtsy that Kitty had spent hours trying to get her to perfect. "I'm pleased to meet you, Anne," she said. "Your home is pretty and really big."

"Thank you. I'm very pleased to meet you too, Adélie," Anne said, her tone amused. "Will you tell me how you came here?"  
"D'Artagnan brought me."

"Oh?" Anne glanced around. "And where is D'Artagnan now?"

"He was talking to Constance in the gardens."

Standing up, Anne nodded. "I see," she said. She turned slightly. "Jeanette, will you please go out to the gardens and find Mademoiselle Bonacieux? I'm sure she and D'Artagnan are looking for little Adélie." She held her hand out to Adélie. "Would you like some of my tea?"

"Thank you," Adélie said, smiling back. She out her hand in the queen's. "Do you like being queen?"

Again, Anne laughed, leading Adélie towards the tea table that had just been brought in. "Yes, Adélie," she said, gesturing for the tea to be poured. "I do like being queen, though it is very hard at times."

"Your Majesty, I will take the child down to the kitchen for something to eat," one of the other woman said. Her tone was somewhat disdainful, and Adélie looked at her with narrowed eyes. "I will wait with her until Constance comes to claim her. After all-."

Sharply, Anne stared at the woman. "Mademoiselle Adelie and I are having a conversation," she said quietly. "I'm sorry for that, Adelie. I expected better manners from my ladies in waiting."

The woman backed away, bowing her head. Carefully, Adélie sat down and her feet stuck out in front of her. "Its all right," she said. "Most people treat me like that. I liked being in the country, but everyone was mean to me there. Are people nice here?"

"Some of them," Anne answered. "When you find someone nice, Adélie, make sure you keep them close. They're hard to find sometimes."

"D'Artagnan is nice," Adélie told her. She took a bite of her tart. "So is Aramis. I guess Porthos is nice too, D'Artagnan says he is, and he did my hair for me this morning. See?" She twisted around so that her now messy braid could be seen. Several of the women giggled. "And I don't know if Athos likes me. They rescued me."

"I am not surprised," Anne said. "How did they rescue you? It must have been an adventure."

Adélie nodded. 'It was," she said. She pushed her hair away from her forehead. "See? I fell from a horse and Aramis had to sew me back up. It hurt. Aramis said he has to take the stitches out tonight."

"Oh, you poor thing," Anne said, reaching out. She touched Adélie's forehead lightly. She looked up as the door opened and she got to her feet. "My lord!"

Twisting her head, Adélie saw a man, followed by another man in a red robe enter the room. Figuring she'd better imitate Anne, Adélie got to her feet and set her tart aside. "Anne," the first, younger man said. He paused as he spotted Adélie. "Oh, what's this?"

"This is Adélie," Anne said. Adélie curtsied again, wobbling even worse this time. "Adélie, this is my husband, Louis."

"Oh, you're the king!" Adélie exclaimed. "You tell the musketeers what to do!"

Louis chuckled. "Yes, I do," he answered. "Anne, where did she come from?"

"Apparently, she came with one of your musketeers," Anne explained. "D'Artagnan to be exact. Though how he came to have her in the first place, I haven't been able to learn yet."

"Well, I'll have someone escort her out," the man in the red robe said, making a gesture. "We do have several proposals to discuss, Your Majesty, if we can move on?"

Anne put her hand on Adélie's shoulder. "That's not necessary, Cardinal," the queen said, her tone cool. "I've already sent someone to find the musketeer."

Glancing between the adults, Adélie frowned. "I was merely trying to relieve Your Majesty of an unnecessary burden," the Cardinal said, his tone stiff. "Looking after a common street urchin is not something a person of your status should be doing, however charming the child may be."

"Why do you speak to Anne like that?" Adélie asked. "You sound helpful, but your eyes aren't." Richelieu stared at her in amazement, but she was already turning to the king. "Your Majesty, may I ask you a question?"

Surprised, Louis nodded. "You may," he said.

"Why aren't girls allowed to be musketeers?"

Queen Anne laughed as her husband stared at the girl in shock. "Do you want to be a musketeer and protect France, Adélie?" she asked.

"No," Adélie answered honestly, causing the room to fill with laughter. "But if I did, I couldn't and that wouldn't be very fair."

"Men are musketeers because that is their choice. They're brave and strong," Louis informed Adélie. "Women remain at home where they can be protected."

Adélie frowned. "Oh," she said, considering this. "So what if a girl was strong and brave and wanted to be a musketeer? Could she?"

"That would certainly be different," Anne laughed as her husband struggled to figure out what to say.

"Oh!" Adélie said suddenly. "She would be different, wouldn't she, and different isn't always good. I understand. All right."

"Adelie, would you excuse me if I were to take a walk with His Majesty, the king?" Anne asked, smiling at the girl.

Several of the ladies in waiting gasped in astonishment. "That's fine," Adelie answered, smiling sweetly. "I have to find D'Artagnan again anyway. He won't like it that I've been gone so long as it is."

"Finish your tea first," Anne instructed, setting the tea cup on the edge of the table so that the girl could reach it. "Then, someone will take you to Constance and D'Artagnan. I look forward to meeting you again, someday, Adélie."

Smiling brightly, Adélie curtsied and reached for her teacup. "Au revoir, Anne," she said as the king and queen left the room. She sipped the tea and then climbed back onto her chair. She regarded the waiting woman and the Cardinal seriously as she finished the last of her tart.

"My child, where do you come from?" Richelieu asked.

Frowning, Adélie shook her head. "I'm not your child, monsieur," she informed him. She took one more sip of the tea, wrinkled her nose, and slid off the chair. "Anne called you 'Cardinal'. Does that mean you're Cardinal Richelieu?"

"Yes, it does," Richelieu responded. "And you-."

"Good bye," Adélie said. She darted for the door since her way outside was now blocked. Exclamations followed her, and the ladies in waiting hastened to catch her.

* * *

Growing more and more worried, D'Artagnan met up with Constance at the bench where they'd split up. "Did you find her?" he asked the lady quickly.

As Constance shook her head, D'Artagnan heard someone call out his name. Turning, he found the king and queen approaching. "Your Majesties!" the young Gascon exclaimed, bowing. "Constance and I were just…"

"Searching for a small child by the name of Adélie?" the queen said, with a smile. "I was just having a lovely conversation with her. She is very charming. You must have Constance tell me how you came across her. I believe you should go fetch her as she was doing her best to get on the Cardinal's bad side."

D'Artagnan flinched. "Of course, she was," he said. "Thank you, Your Majesties. Her father would be very unhappy with me if I'd managed to lose her."

"We left her to finish her tea," Louis said.

"Excuse me," D'Artagnan said, bowing again. The royal couple nodded and D'Artagnan took off.

* * *

_**A/N: I think I am being very evil to D'Artagnan right now. :) **_


	11. Chapter 11

Closing her eyes, Adélie rested her head against the wall. She'd managed to evade the ladies in waiting, and the guards that the Cardinal had sent after her. She wondered if she stood here long enough whether D'Artagnan would eventually find her.

"Well, well, well," a voice said. "What do we have here?"

Gasping, Adélie opened her eyes and spun around. She found a short man with black hair standing only a few feet away. "I've seen that face before," the man continued. "Though I never would have expected to find it on a child. Nor would I have though it to be pretty. You're little Adélie, aren't you?"

"Who are you?" Adélie demanded, pressing up against the wall. This man, smiling though he was, frightened her even more than her kidnapper had.

"De la Meries' the name," the man answered. "Comte de la Meries. I believe I sent an…associate of mine to collect you earlier this week. A good friend of mine in England is eager to make your acquaintance."

Trembling, Adélie tried to sidestep away, but the man raised an eyebrow at her. "I know," Adélie responded. "I fell off a horse and hit my head."

"Did you?" de la Meries queried, frowning. "And I gave orders for to be treated with the greatest of care. Well, no matter. I suppose I will just have to take you with me. I was just about to leave for England anyway. I know a very important person who is very interested in meeting you."

"No, thank you," Adélie responded. "I have to go now. They'll be missing me."

The man scowled for a moment, and then his face cleared. "But I am to take you to your mother, dear Adélie," he said. Adélie tilted her head. "You do want to see her, don't you?"

"My mother?" Adélie repeated. She frowned trying to think. A hand curled around her wrist.

"Come with me, Adélie," de la Meries commanded, tugging on her arm. Unwillingly, Adélie let herself be pulled down the hallway. 'Now, I know your mother is going to be very happy to see you. After all this time, I expect her to be surprised to see her little Adélie."

"She wants to see me?"

"Of course she does," de la Meries answered. "Would I lie to you, my dear child? Now, to London."

London? Wait. She couldn't go to London. D'Artagnan wouldn't know where she'd gone. And D'Artagnan had said her father cared, so HE wouldn't be very happy if she just left. Besides, this man was the reason Kitty had died, not to mention the wound on her own head.

"No," Adélie said. They'd reached the courtyard. "No, I can't."

Impatiently, the man pulled her arm harder. "Come, Adélie," he snapped. A carriage was waiting. "Do you want to disappoint your mother?

Startled, Adélie looked at the woman who was just stepping out of the carriage. "My mother is here?"

"Can this be Little Adélie?" the black haired woman asked, kneeling down. "How precious she is! You have my thanks for finding her for me, Comte. Come to me, my little Adélie."

Her hand reaching out, Adélie froze. "You're not my mother," she said slowly. She shook her head and stepped back. "No. Kitty said my mother had beautiful gold hair. You're nothing like my mother."

The woman shrugged and stood up. De la Meries sighed, tightening his grip. "Well, it was worth a try," he said. "But you are coming with us, child."

"No!" Adélie screamed, digging in her heels. "Let me go!"

"Adélie?" D'Artagnan's voice called out from nearby.

Jerking roughly on Adélie's arm, de la Meries grabbed a hold of her shoulders and lifted her up. "Let me go!" Adélie screamed, kicking at him. "D'Artagnan! Help!"

De la Meries tossed her through the open door of the carriage. Climbing in right behind, the woman grabbed a hold of Adélie and held her still. De la Meries closed the door and climbed up with the driver.

With Constance right behind him, D'Artagnan ran into the courtyard. He searched around for Adélie, still hearing her screams. He spotted the carriage that was rushing away. "Constance," he said, turning to her. "Get a message to Athos. He's at the Musketeers' Headquarters. Let him know what happened."

"What are you doing?" Constance asked in bewilderment as he bolted away. She stared as he leapt onto the back of a horse that had been saddled and was waiting for its owner. As D'Artagnan galloped away, she headed back into the palace to carry out her instructions.

* * *

Shaking his head, M. Treville leaned back in his chair. "This is grave news," he said, regarding the three musketeers that sat on the other side of his desk. "If Buckingham has found support here in France, if this war continues any further, it will make things that much more difficult for us."  
"De la Meries may be the only one," Athos told him. "But there's no way to be certain."

"I will have to consider this very carefully before I inform the king," Treville mused. He glanced between the three men who were some of his best musketeers. "You are all on leave, are you not? How did you come across this information in the first place?"

Porthos looked over at Athos. "Buckingham sent an agent of his to de la Meries, to take something that would be used against me," Athos answered vaguely. "I was taking it back."

"Monsieur Athos!"

The unmistakeable sound of Constance Bonacieux's shout was muffled by the closed doors, but there was no missing the panic in the young woman's voice. Springing to his feet, Athos strode to the door and flung it open. With Porthos and Aramis right behind him, he stepped out into the corridor.

Taking the steps two at a time, Constance was rushing up towards them. Musketeers who had been engaged in swordplay, or general goofing off, now stared after the woman in shock.

"Constance, what's happened?" Aramis demanded.

Panting for breath, Constance reached them. "D'Artagnan sent me," she said, trying to get her breath back. " Adélie wandered away from us, and someone took her. D'Artagnan was going after them."

"Who was it?" Athos demanded.

Constance shook her head. "I didn't see," she answered. "But whoever it was, was in a carriage. There was a crest on the door that I couldn't see."

"De la Meries," Porthos said, looking at his companions.

"Which way were they going?" Aramis asked.

Athos shook his head. "They're leaving the city," he said. "They'll be going towards England to report to Buckingham. We'll have to split up to cover each way out."

He took off down the stairs with Aramis and Porthos seconds behind him. Constance was left standing with Treville.

* * *

_**A/N: This and the following chapters I have written and rewritten several times. I'm still not completely happy with it. But with my schedule I don't have time to fix it now. Maybe later on.**_


	12. Chapter 12

D'Artagnan caught up to the carriage near the bridge. He urged his mount closer to the moving vehicle. Readying himself, he leapt over and clung to the back of the carriage. A musket shot sounded, sending the sou rounding people on the road into a panic.

Inside, Adélie looked up as the carriage jolted from the extra weight. "D'Artagnan!" she exclaimed. She squirmed out of the woman's grasp and stuck her head out the window. "I knew he'd come! I knew it!"

Pulling himself, D'Artagnan climbed onto the roof of the carriage. "You're just a boy," de la Meries accused, already waiting for him. The comte had his blade in his hand. "Athos too afraid to take care of his own business?"

"You're not taking Adélie anywhere," D'Artagnan responded, drawing his own sword.

The two blades met and sparked. D'Artagnan thought he'd fought a difficult fight with Rochfort on the roof of the Notre Dame Cathedral, but it was just as difficult keeping his balance on the carriage. His only advantage was that he was the better swordsman.

The driver jerked on the reigns as a large cart stopped abruptly in front of them. De la Meries fell back against the driver. D'Artagnan lost his balance, catching himself before he flew off the roof. He was startled to find Adélie trying to climb out of the window, kicking at the woman who was trying to keep her in.

D'Artagnan opened his mouth to warn her to get in before she was hurt, when the carriage swerved again. It slammed against the side of the bridge. Thanks to the grip he'd already had on the roof of the carriage, D'Artagnan managed to keep from going off.

But right in front of him, Adélie, who'd had a forward momentum going to get out, flew out the window. She screamed, trying to grab onto the side of the bridge. "Adélie!" D'Artagnan shouted, seeing her plummet towards the river below.

Reacting, D'Artagnan tossed his sword off the carriage as he scrambled to his feet. He took a deep breath and leapt off. Moments later, he hit the frigid water. Spring may have come, but the water still had the iciness of winter in it.

Kicking to the surface, he searched. "Adélie!" He dove under when he saw no sign of her. For several heart stopping moments, D'Artagnan could not see a thing in the murky water. Then, his hand brushed against something small and fleshy: Adélie's arm.

Lungs burning for oxygen, D'Artagnan grabbed the arm and kicked up to the surface. Thankful he'd learned how to swim when he was younger, D'Artagnan towed Adélie towards the bank. He was shivering from the cold, but was concerned because Adélie, who was so much smaller, wasn't

A small crowd had gathered by the time he reached the ground. Ignoring them, D'Artagnan sat with Adélie in his arms checked for any sign of life from the girl. "Adélie," He said, brushing her wet hair away from her pale face. "No. Nonono. Adélie, you have to wake up! Adélie."

Shaking his head desperately, D'Artagnan shit her back with his fist. The girl's body jolted and she spit out water. Adélie drew in a shuddering breath. D'Artagnan leaned around to see her face, and groaned when he saw that her eyes remained closed.

"Got to get her to Athos," he said, trying to focus. He managed to get to his feet keeping Adélie held close. "Excuse me."

He managed to reach the road, glancing down. The carriage was gone, but he hadn't expected anything else. "D'Artagnan!" Porthos was running towards him, holding D'Artagnan's sword. "What happened?"

Without waiting for an answer, Porthos shrugged out of his coat and draped it around D'Artagnan's shoulders. "De la Meries...got away," D'Artagnan managed to say, his teeth chattering. "Adélie...needs a physician."

"A wagon," Porthos called out. "Does anyone have a wagon? We're willing to pay!"

At the word 'pay', several came forward to offer their carts. Porthos selected the sturdiest and handed over all the money he had. Still holding Adélie, D'Artagnan sat on the back. Sending a young boy off to find Aramis and Athos, Porthos took over driving. "Athos is going to kill me," D'Artagnan said softly for the second time.

* * *

Taking charge at their home, Porthos sent Planchet for a physician. D'Artagnan sat with Adélie in front of the fire, trying to warm her. The door slammed open when Athos arrived not long after.

Looking up, D'Artagnan struggled to find some way to explain. "I'm sorry," he said, guilt filling his voice. "She wandered away from me."

Striding across the room, Athos took the child into his arms. "She's barely breathing!" he exclaimed.

"Planchet has gone for a physician," Porthos said. "He should be here any minute."

Turning, Athos walked to his chamber and gently laid Adélie on the bed. "Adélie," he said, rubbing the girl's hands. "Adélie, can you hear me?" He looked over his shoulder. "D'Artagnan, what happened?"

"I-I lost her," D'Artagnan admitted, shame written all over his face. "I stopped watching her for only a few minutes, I swear! But when I finally heard her, she was out in one of the palace courtyards, and de la Meries was taking her away. We reached the bridge and...and she fell in."

Porthos chuckled. "She met the queen?" he asked. "That must have annoyed the Cardinal."

"Athos, I'm sorry," D'Artagnan said. "I didn't mean-."

"One child, D'Artagnan!" Athos snapped. "I asked you to look after one child! Was that a difficult request?"

Stricken, D'Artagnan recoiled out of the doorway. At that moment, the physician arrived and shooed everyone, save for Athos from the room. Out in the main room, D'Artagnan put his head down on the railing. "It wasn't your fault, D'Artagnan," Porthos told him. "Adélie has all the smarts of Athos and Milady. If she wanted to get away from you, she would have."

The young Gascon refused to be comforted. "I'll never forgive myself if she doesn't make it," he said.

Sighing, Porthos nodded. "You need to get yourself dry, boy," he said. "I'll have a drink ready for you. Get out of those clothes."

* * *

Time passed slowly. Aramis arrived with Treville and Constance. "How is she?" Aramis asked quickly.

The two musketeers didn't answer. Constance went to D'Artagnan and put her arms around him. A door opened and closed. The physician walked out, looking grave and shaken.

"I've done all I can," he said before he could be asked. "If she wakes within the next two days, she will make a full recovery, though there is the chance of further illness from the cold. Monsiuer Athos has forbidden any bleeding to balance the humors. Beyond that, I have nothing I can do. It's in the Lord's hands now."

D'Artagnan had gone pale at the mention of bleeding. Aramis agreed silently that they had seen to much of Adélie's blood. Treville turned to his musketeers. "Is this child who Mademoiselle Bonacieux has claimed her to be?" he asked in a low voice.

"She is Athos' daughter," Porthos answered. There was no sense in keeping the truth from their captain. "We only just discovered her."

Treville nodded. "If the worst should happen, send a message to me. I believe Athos will need all of you with him."

Porthos sent up a silent prayer of his own as Aramis bowed his head. Adélie couldn't leave this life without knowing some kind of happiness first. The universe could not be that cruel to a neglected child of five.

* * *

Athos sat by the bed all through the day. Reaching out, he brushed Adélie's dark hair from her face. He'd been relieved when her pale face had flushed with color, but now the fever was doing just as much damage.

"No..." Adelie moaned,moving her head from side to side. "...don't want...go."

Wiping her face with a damp rag, Athos tried to bring her some comfort. "Hush, Adelie," he said. "You're safe."

"...airship?" Adelie abruptly said, a frowning creasing her forehead. Athos almost smiled. D'Artagnan's story must have made a deep impression on the girl if she was dreaming of it now. "No! Let me go! I can't go...mother?"

That one word made Athos' heart freeze. How was he ever going to explain that her mother was dead?

"Athos." He looked up to find Aramis at his side. "I will sit with her for awhile."

"No."

"I wasn't asking, Athos," Aramis said firmly. "You need to speak to D'Artagnan. The boy is killing himself with grief and guilt. Only you can ease his mind."

D'Artagnan. Athos groaned as he remembered the harsh words he'd spoken earlier. "I won't be long," he said as he got to his feet.

Nodding, Aramis took his place and wiped the sweat from Adélie's forehead. Outside, Athos found the room quieter than he'd ever seen it. D'Artagnan sat by the fire, staring bleakly at the ceiling.

"D'Artagnan," Athos said, getting the young man's attention. Heaving a sigh, Athos pulled a chair over next to his young friend.

"Athos, I'm sorry," D'Artagnan told him, earnestly.

"I know," Athos answered. "It wasn't your fault, D'Artagnan. Adélie should have known better than to run off like she did."

Putting his head down on his knees, D'Artagnan closed his eyes. "I should have watched her better, instead of talking to Constance," he said bleakly. "I'll never forgive myself if she…She's got to be all right, Athos!"

"She will," Athos answered without any confidence. He'd seen first hand what would happen to those who never woke up, and Adélie was so small.

"Do you know what she asked me yesterday?" D'Artagnan said. "She asked if I would be her brother. Aramis, it seems, refused the position to in favor of being her uncle. She trusted me to take care of her, and I let this happen!"

Athos shook his head. "D'Artagnan, whatever happens, I don't blame you," he said, putting his arm around the younger man's shoulders. "And Adélie wouldn't want you to blame yourself either. She knew what she was doing when she wandered away from you."

Porthos carried over wine for them. "De la Meries acted as though he knew you," D'Artagnan commented, accepting a goblet.

"That's because he does."

"Athos!" Aramis suddenly called out. "Come quickly.

* * *

Treville looked up as the door to his office opened. A very grave Aramis walked in. "Monsieur, there is something we must speak about," the former priest said seriously.

* * *

_**A/N: Sorry for the wait on this chapter. Stuff happened. **_

_**There is one last chapter after this. I seem to have a problem with ending my stories abruptly. Yeah, I should work on that.**_


	13. Chapter 13

A little over a week later, Athos guided his horse through the Gascon region. "You have to promise me you will behave for Monsieur D'Artagnan," he said, looking down at the child in front of him.

"I promise," Adélie answered. She rubbed at the healing wound on her forhead. The stitches had been removed, and she would have a scar once it finished healing. "But why do I have to stay here?"

"Adélie, the D'Artagnans will take good care of you," Athos told her. "There are people who would hurt you if they thought you were still alive,; people who would stop at nothing to get to you. You'll be safe here."

They approached a small farm. Athos dismounted first and set Adélie on the ground. A man, an older version of the D'Artagnan Athos knew, came out of the barn. "You must be Athos," he said, holding out his hand. "We just received our son's letter yesterday."

"Bertrand?" a woman called out from the house.

"She's here," M. D'Artagnan called back. He smiled at Adélie. "My wife has been working hard to make sure everything was in order for Adélie's arrival. You must come in and have a drink."

Adélie regarded him curiously. "I can't stay," Athos told him. "I thank you for the service you do me, Monsieur."

"It is an honor to be of service to one of the king's musketeers, and you're a friend of my son," M. D'Artagnan responded as his wife hurried towards them. "You look after our boy and we will care for your daughter."

Nodding, Athos knelt down. "Good bye, Adélie," he said.

Throwing her arms around his neck, Adélie clung to him. "I don't want you to go," she whispered.

"Adélie, behave yourself," Athos ordered, carefully disentangling her arms. He kissed her cheek and pushed her away. He took a chain from his pocket and hung it around her neck. The sapphire ring shone brightly in the sun. "I have to get back to Paris before anyone gets suspicious."

"Come, sweetie," Madame D'Artagnan invited, holding her hand out. "I have something sweet and good for you. For all that you've been through, I think you deserve something nice"

Reluctantly, Adélie took the woman's hand. Athos shook hands with M. D'Artagnan and mounted his horse. He steeled himself as he rode away from the farm. He glanced back once, and Adélie was waving goodbye.

Until the war was over, and Buckingham was dealt with, Adélie would never be safe with Athos. He vowed to change that situation.

* * *

The barred door squeaked as opened. "Up to your tricks again?" Buckingham asked as he entered.

Dressed all in black, Milady didn't even flinch. She was on her knees, her hands pressed together as if in prayer. "Leave me in peace," she requested, her tone serene.

"It may interest you to know that I recently learned of the existence of a most charming young lady while I was in Paris," Buckingham commented, surveying the cell. It was decorated elegantly, but there was no hiding the fact that it was designed to keep someone in. "What was her name? Oh, yes. Adélie."

Milady opened her eyes, her breath catching for a second. "Oh, really?" she said, noncommittally.

"A most stubborn and willful child, I must say."

Smiling, Milady turned her head. "Oh, so she takes after me then?"

"Oh, no," Buckingham answered. "From all my reports, she's all Athos, though with the capability of charm. She got that from you, I suppose."

"And you don't have her with you? I would have enjoyed seeing her," Milady said. "What fun we would have had, here in London."

"She died," Buckingham said carelessly. Milady stopped smiling. "It seems she fell into a river and died from the illness. There was no funeral, simply a quick burial." He eyed the woman. "Can it be you actually cared for the child?"

"I was never meant to be a mother," Milady replied. "Tell me. Where did Athos bury her?"

Buckingham frowned. "A small cemetery near Paris," he said. "Why?"

"Despite my feelings on the matter, it would be appropriate if I were to visit the grave should I be nearby," Milady answered, turning back to her wall. "Now, if you will excuse me?"

Suspicious, Buckingham left the cell. Milady smiled. She knew Athos well. If he'd had Adélie, he would have known he was the father. And all of Athos' family was buried on the de la Fere estate. He wouldn't have made an exception, even if Milady were the mother.

Adélie was still alive and free. Perhaps the child would someday be of use to Milady.

* * *

_**A/N: I had hoped Adelie would last longer, but my muse only carried me this far. Hope you enjoyed!**_


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